


Invitation for Bard

by moosefrog



Series: Raven-borne Messages [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, bagginshield, raven messenger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11892780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosefrog/pseuds/moosefrog
Summary: Erebor has sent out an unofficial heads-up that its king is going to get married. Via raven. And Bain nearly starts a war!





	Invitation for Bard

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to the loverly [medusine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/medusine/) for reading this story for me and providing feedback and if you're into Black Sails you should check her fics out!

"I'm really really really sorry, pa! I didn't know it was one of the dwarves' ravens! I thought it was after my fish!" Bain trailed after his father along their personal dock. He had to admit, having a king for a father was pretty nice. They had a bigger house, now, and Bain had gotten his own boat!

Which… was why he was in trouble, now. He'd been out fishing since early morning and was just rowing back into the dock when a great big raven had landed on his boat right on top of his net full of fish! Not even thinking, he'd bopped it into the lake with his oar. It was when the bird started cursing in easy to understand Westron that Bain had realized his mistake.

And he had learned a few cuss new words!

Bard sighed and gently set the bedraggled and sopping wet mess of black feathers down on his sofa. "Allow me to get you a towel, master raven," Bard said. Then he turned and glared at Bain. "A towel, Bain? Sooner rather than later, son."

Bain scampered off to grab a towel but he lurked in the doorway to eavesdrop.

"I am truly sorry, master raven. Bain is young and you had startled him." Bard was quickly putting together a plate of food for the raven. In went leftover fish stew and slices of raw bacon. "I am ashamed to say I do not have stores set aside for when I receive ravens," He set the tray down next to the miserable raven and bowed his head, "I hope this will suffice?"

Pfft. Why was father being so humble to a bird? Bain wondered. He took his time finding a towel. Fat chance you'd catch him on bended knee for a fish-stealing raven! Even if it was some fancy dwarf-bird. He finally fished a clean towel out of the basket and brought it back to the living room. His father was reading a scrap of paper; his expression unreadable. The raven had a strip of streaky bacon pinned to the arm of the sofa with its foot and was trying to pull a chunk of the stretchy meat off.

"I got the towel, pa..." Bain held it out but Bard didn't reach for it.

"Then attend to our guest, Bain. You soaked him, you get to dry him off. And be careful, you don't want to start a war with Erebor." Bain nearly dropped the towel in surprise.

"A war? Why would Erebor want to start a war?"

"You've met King Thorin," Bard sighed. "If anyone would go to war over the mistreatment of his messenger, Thorin would."

Bain felt the colour drain from his face and he now realized why his father had been so polite to the bird. "Er, may I dry you off, master raven, sir?"

"I am Roäc, son of Carc," the raven said in a grave tone of voice. "You may address me as such, Bain Oar-wielder."

"Oh no! No please don't call me that? King Thorin will want to know why and then he'll find out and-" Bain fell to his knees in front of the raven. "Please don't tell on me!"

Roäc held his sodden wings out and stared pointedly at Bain.

"King Thorin says he's marrying that halfling fellow that was travelling with him. Bilbo."

"The one who stole the Arkenstone, pa?" Bain was carefully pressing the towel against Roäc's wings, trying to dry them.

"The very one. I suppose he managed to steal more hearts than just the heart of the mountain," Bard mused aloud as he studied the short note. He imagined Balin would be getting a more formal invitation out later. It was actually quite decent of Thorin to personally invite Bard, one king to another, before anyone else really heard the news. It paid to be an informed king.

"Here, master raven," Bard said. He tone was lighter now that he knew the contents of the message. "I will write a reply and send it back with you. Er," he took in Bain's slow progress. "Whenever you feel ready to depart, of course. More bacon?"


End file.
